Torat Moishe - Moishe's Torah

Parshat Chukat
Bamidbar 19:1 – 22:1
Sivan 30 5771 / July 1 – 2 2011

L'CHAIM! TO LIFE!
by Laura Taishoff, MH New Orleans

Parashat Chukat was an incredibly interesting Parsha for my first ever D’Var Torah. It includes lessons about how to purify oneself when there has been contact with a dead body, the death of Miriam, and an intense almost revolt against Moses and Aaron.

It was all fascinating but I am choosing to focus on the beginning of the Chapter, which opens with a delineation of the ways in which Jews are required to cleanse themselves after coming into contact with a dead body. In 19:12, there is a description of the red heifer, which is “, faultless, and upon which never came yoke”. The portion says that the heifer must be burned and the ashes will be combined with water to make a purification mixture. On the third day and the seventh day, the individual seeking cleansing will have this purification mixture sprinkled on them and then, he/she would be cleansed.

All of this just for coming into contact with a dead body? Why were such arduous and meticulous orders necessary to warn the Jewish people from coming into contact or hanging around a corpse? I found this kind of warning especially surprising given the various ways in which Jews are required to be empathetic and compassionate towards those who are grieving a loss. It seems to me like mixed messages. If it is so incredibly important that we purify ourselves for merely coming into contact with a dead body, why do those reciting Mourner’s Kiddush stand? It was my understanding that they stand so that they entire community knows that they are grieving and are in need of support. There is also the tradition of brining a home cooked meal to those sitting Shiva.

I came to the conclusion that it is important to recognize the difference in doling out sympathy to those grieving from death and being exposed to death and surrounding yourself with it. Perhaps what the parsah is suggesting is not a lack of compassion for the dead but rather an acknowledgement of life. We support those who are grieving but not at the cost of our own sense of aliveness. If one is constantly surrounded by death and dead bodies, it will be vastly more difficult to fully live and experience all that life has to offer. So, what I am taking away from this portion is the importance of creating boundaries for grieving and mourning, and coupling those with an appreciation for the beautiful, challenging, exhilarating highs and lows that we all experience as a part of LIFE.

Parshat KorachBamidbar 16:1 -18:32
23 Sivan  5771 / June 24 – 25, 2011

Parshat Shelach
Bamidbar 13:1 – 15:41
16 Sivan 5771 / June 17 – 18, 2011

“An Elephant Never Forgets”
by Rebecca Karp, MH Philadelphia

Parshat Shelach (“Send”) is chock-full of amazing tidbits to riff on. Spies, threats of 40 years of wandering, promise of the death of an entire generation, the mitzvah of challah, liturgy from the high holiday services, and it goes on. So much wisdom, so much to choose from. But, as I write this D’var Torah from Israel, eretz zavat halav u’dvash (“a land flowing with milk and honey”), that the Israelites are almost ready to enter, I chose to touch on the commandment of tzitzit, a commandment to wear and remember.

Chapter 15, Verses 38-39

38. Speak to the children of Israel and you shall say to them that they shall make for themselves fringes on the corners of their garments, throughout their generations, and they shall affix a thread of sky blue (wool) on the fringe of each corner. 39. This shall be fringes for you, and when you see it, you will remember all the commandments of the Lord to perform them…

Perhaps the phrase, “an elephant never forgets”, bringing up the image of an elephant with a string tied around its (non-existent) finger, comes from the far reaches of Bamidbar and the concept of tying fringes on your garment to remember the commandments of HaShem. Surely an iconic symbol in Judaism, the fringes on the corners of “your” garment represent far more many things to people than only the commandments. For me, the most prominent image this symbol brings up is huddling under my father’s talit during services because the synagogue was so cold and he would hold me and we would sing the prayers together. What does this image, the image of tzitzit, make you think of? I would venture to say not just, if at all, the concept of remembering the commandments.

When I describe a thin, red string tied around someone’s wrist, what do you think of? Kabbalah, Madonna, women begging at the Western Wall? Or when I mention two golden-colored arches? Fries, the Hamburglar, child obesity, McDonald’s? No matter what you associated these two items with, you would likely be both right and not thinking of what the original creator intended for you to think.

The common thread between tzitzit, the red string and the golden-colored arches are that all of these symbols have come to mean more than their original intentions. The symbol of tzitzit is more rich and expansive for us today than HaShem envisioned during Bamidbar, reminding us not only of the commandments, but of our families, our heritage, the Jewish people around us today and what we can give to the Jewish future. Perhaps the next time you put on a garment with tzitzit, or see them on someone else, you will even think of this D’var Torah and remember all of the great work we’re doing (and fun we’re having) in Moishe House! L’hitraot from Jerusalem!

Parshat Beha’alotcha
Bamidbar 8:1 – 12:16
9 Sivan 5771/ June 10 – 11, 2011

Presenting … ME!
by Zvi Bellin, MHHQ

Early in the portion, we learn about the purification and dedication of the Levites for their life of service for the work of the Mishkan (in the desert) and the Temple (in Israel). If you recall from Vayikra, the previous book of the Torah, the Levites have some heavy responsibility, literally. It is their job to lug the pieces of the Mishkan through the desert from site to site. They maintained the order and cleanliness of all ritual items and served a supporting role to the Priests.

As G-d is instructing Moshe about this ritual, G-d states (8:16):

" כי נתונים נתונים לי המה מתוך בני ישראל."

“For presented, presented are they to Me from among the Children of Israel.”

Now the Torah is not a text that is generous with words, and if something is repeated twice, there is probably something to learn. Rashi comments on the double use of the word presented. He says that the Levites were presented for two main jobs – the first is to carry the mishkan and take care of the ritual vessels, the second is to sing. During the Temple times the Levites would take shifts throughout the entire day singing psalms and praises to G-d.

The Parsha goes on to teach that a Levite would work between the ages of 25 – 50. When a Levite would turn 50 years old it was time for retirement. Rashi comments that they would retire from carrying physical loads, but that they would continue to sing praises in shifts.

When I think about myself and how I define myself, how I present myself to the world, there are some labels that are fleeting – like Camp Counselor, or even, Jewish Educator. And there are other identities that seem to stick with me – like Son or Helper. Throughout life we are called to fill certain roles in our communities, and these titles and tasks help us to live with a stable and sustainable sense of meaning.

I find a lesson in the Torah’s words by double-tasking the Levites with something that fades (carrying) and something that persists (singing). In our life we are going to lose and let go of jobs, people, and responsibilities that seem to capture who we are. There is a danger if we completely identify with these things, and think that without them our personal meaning is lost too. This is not so. Our identities are multi-leveled and dynamic. And as our roles shift, our personal meaning is extended and enhanced.

When we experience times when we lose something we thought was essential to our identity (a job or a relationship, for example), we might feel that we have lost every connection to meaning. In these moments, allow the Levites to remind you, that you still have a voice, a persistent form of expression that is lasting, and ultimately a way to connect back with your sense of purpose.

Parshat Naso
2 Sivan 5771 / June 3 – 4, 2011
Bamidbar 4:21 – 7:89

Taking Your Part in Pleasure
by Laura Wolf, formerly of MH London

דבר אל בני ישראל ואמרת אלהם איש או אשה כי יפלא לנדר נדר נזיר להזיר להשם

“Speak to the Children of Israel and say to them: A man or woman who shall dissociate him or herself by taking a Nazarite vow of abstinence for the sake of G-d...” (Numbers 6:2)

Although Nazirs (a form Biblical asceticism) are praised for their restraint, they are still commanded to bring a sacrificial sin offering at the end of their vow which seems paradoxical. You would think that a person should be completely rewarded for partaking in less of this physical world.

In his commentary to the Torah, Rav Naftali Zvi Yehuda Berlin writes that there is certainly a positive aspect to being a Nazir, but that it is not for everyone. Abstaining from the pleasures that G-d intended for us to enjoy is, in a sense, sinful for the average person.

Soon we will be celebrating the festival of Shavuot, commemorating the receiving of the Torah. Rabbi Yechiel Michel Epstein, author of the classic halachic work Aruch Hashulchan (1829-1908), writes that the festival of Shavuot is referred to in the Torah as “atzeres,” restraint, because the Jewish people were instructed to abstain from physical indulgence prior to receiving the Torah. Surprisingly, the Talmud tells us that one should consume delicacies on Shavuot – the very same holiday whose name represents restraint from physical pleasures!

The Talmud states that one who fasts excessively is called a sinner, because he adopts a path that is contrary to what the Torah asks of us. We are not bidden to abstain from earthly pleasures altogether, for they were placed here to enhance our earthly existence and to utilize in the service of G-d. Rather, our mandate is to limit our intake of these pleasures and not to allow them to take control of us. So long as one is careful not to allow themselves to indulge and as a result compromise their physical and spiritual health, there is no reason to refrain from appreciating the abundance with which G-d has showered us. One who abstains from it altogether has confused asceticism with piety.

Parshat Bamidbar
Bamidbar 1:1 – 4:20
24 Iyar 5771 / May 27 – 28, 2011

Lessons for Moishe House Leaders
by Dovi Kacev (dovi.kacev@gmail.com), MH San Diego

Parshat BaMidbar begins with G-d telling Moses that he and Aaron are to take a census of the Israelites as they were crossing the desert. This census is to be done by invoking the help of one leader from within each tribe to count those in that tribe. The parsha then goes on to list the tally of people by tribe, who in total numbered 603,550 without the Levites, who were tallied separately. Each tribe was assigned a position around the Tent of Meeting, in which they marched through the desert. The portion discusses the census of the Levites and the Kohanim and describes their duties in traveling with the tabernacle.

What can we, as Moishe Housekateers, learn from all of this?

Firstly, the idea that there needed to be a census shows us that every member of the community is important. Within each of our local communities, we too must be careful to acknowledge each of our community members. Also, just as Moses and Aaron were made to do, we should step back and appreciate the magnitude and vibrancy of the communities we have helped forge.

Secondly, there is also significance in the idea that the census was conducted by leaders from within each tribe. In order to truly be a community, the leaders have to not only understand the general members, they have to be a part of them. We have to be personally invested in our communities in order to help them thrive.

Finally, we get to the positions each tribe needs to take around the Tent of Meeting and the duties of the Levites and Kohanim. This teaches us that we do not gather as communities just for fun, but rather for service. We have responsibilities to ensure that the greater society functions properly. Regardless of whether we are priests or citizens, we each have a role to play and no role is more important than another.

Next time we you have an event at your home make sure that you take the time to appreciate the magnitude of the community you have helped create. Be sure to appreciate each guest as well as the immensity of the whole group. Take the time to be a member of the community as well as one of its leaders. Most importantly, help direct the community toward service to make the world a better and more functional place.

Parshat Bechukotai
Vayikra 26:3 – 27:34
21 Iyar 5771 / May 20 – 21, 2011

Well, Bless You Too!
by Zvi Bellin, MHHQ

In Parshat Bechukotai we learn about the rewards and punishments for following or abandoning the laws of the Torah. The picture of G-d that this portion paints is pretty harsh. “Listen to me, or else!” I continue to wonder why G-d, THE BEING OF ULTIMATE COMPASSION, would be so hell bent on people following all of G-d’s dictates. If a system is truly based on love, it follows in my own reasoning, that every little and minute detail is not what counts; rather it’s the relationship and closeness that matters. I think we all know pretty well that closeness cannot be mandated. Love has to be nurtured and cherished in order to be maintained and expanded.

While I fully believe in the statement above, I have to be honest. My decision to begin an observant Jewish practice began, in part, when I came across a verse from this portion. Verse 26:19 states the following punishment:

“I will make your heaven like iron and your land like copper.”

When I read this verse about 10 years ago, I looked at the sky and at the ground and I considered how the culture that I lived in was so obsessed with precious metals. Do we still see the sky and earth anymore, or do they just exist as potential resources or problems of production? My awareness of environmental maladies (draught, famine, ozone depletion) was growing, and I began to wonder if the Biblical curse had indeed manifested.

I also looked at my personal life. I was feeling confused about my life direction and basically down about who I was and the world around me. I felt like I had tried the traditional American path of “dog eat dog” and found no peace. I decided at this point to try out the path of Torah and see how that would impact my life and the world around me.

It has been 10 years of ebb and flow Jewish practice. At times I feel more in line with Torah Judaism and at times I feel more distant. I continue to stay engaged in Jewish values and a Jewish way of being in the world. Part of my journey is a continuous refinement of how I can authentically live within the story that we call Judaism. Of course, after all the mitzvoth and prayers, the world is still obsessed with making money and there is still political unrest. The world outside of me has certainly not reached perfection, though I certainly have changed for the better.

While my first entry into Jewish practice might have been motivated by a threat and by fear, I have reached the approach of Love that I expect from G-d. We cannot start our spiritual life from the top of the mountain – with a perfect world, perfect self and perfect G-d. If this were the case, who would need spiritual engagement anyway? Religion does not make bad things disappear; however, we can change our attitude towards harsh reality through our religious involvement.

I tend to adopt the opinion that in the desert, the Jewish people were, in a way, like children. They needed a present and sometimes strict G-d to tell them what was right and good. In our own lives, we never fully outgrow this phase. There are times, especially in trying times, when it is very helpful to have an exact procedure to follow. And, just as true, as we mature, we need to take more personal ownership of our life path and be allowed to do things our own way and to even make mistakes. The curses and the blessings were probably awesome for Jews in the desert, and are probably helpful for Jews like us, though only sometimes.

Today, when I look to the heavens, I see the beauty of the clouds and the majesty of the stars. The expansive land that supports me is diverse and naturally breathtaking. May we only need to see the world as a place of blessing and never as a curse.